
Friendly Fire: The Death of Stonewall Jackson at Chancellorsville
Apr 20, 2026
4 min read · Intermediate

The Monitor and Virginia fought for four hours without a decisive result — and changed naval warfare forever.↗
March 9, 1862: Two ironclads fought to a draw in Hampton Roads and made every wooden warship on earth obsolete. The Monitor vs. Virginia engagement was the most strategically consequential naval battle in 500 years.
On the morning of March 8, 1862, the CSS Virginia steamed out of Norfolk harbor and proceeded to destroy the Union blockading fleet in Hampton Roads. By nightfall, she had sunk two warships, run a third aground, and demonstrated beyond any doubt that wooden warships were finished. The age of the ironclad had arrived — and arrived so suddenly that naval doctrine accumulated over centuries became obsolete in a single afternoon.
The Virginia was the Confederacy's answer to a fundamental problem. The Union naval blockade was strangling Southern ports. Confederate commerce-raiding could harass Union shipping but could not break the blockade. What the South needed was a warship that Union guns could not sink.
They found their answer in the charred hulk of the USS Merrimack, a steam frigate scuttled and burned by Union forces when they evacuated the Norfolk Navy Yard in April 1861. Confederate engineers raised her and rebuilt her as something new: a casemate ironclad with sloping iron sides four inches thick, armed with ten guns and a cast-iron ram on the bow. They renamed her the Virginia.
Her crew had doubts. She was slow — barely six knots — and drew so much water she could only operate in the Roads, not in the open ocean. Her engines were unreliable. Her rudder responded sluggishly. Tested in trials, she barely handled.
None of it mattered on March 8.
The Virginia's commander, Franklin Buchanan, steamed into the Roads in the afternoon and headed directly for the closest Union warship — the USS Cumberland, a 24-gun sloop. Union guns fired at point-blank range. Shot bounced off the Virginia's iron casemate. She rammed the Cumberland, tore a hole below the waterline, and backed off with her ram stuck in the dying ship. The Cumberland went down with her guns still firing — one of the few unambiguously heroic moments in the engagement.
The Virginia then turned to the USS Congress, now aground trying to flee. After an extended engagement, the Congress struck her colors. Buchanan, furious that Union shore batteries were firing on men attempting to accept the surrender, stood in the open on his ship's deck and was wounded by a rifle shot.
The Virginia pulled back for the night. The Union captains in the Roads calculated that she would destroy the rest of the fleet the next morning. Official Washington panicked. Secretary of War Edwin Stanton told Lincoln the Virginia would come up the Potomac and shell the White House.
The USS Monitor had been under construction for four months in Brooklyn, built to an entirely different concept: a rotating gun turret on a nearly flush deck, carrying only two guns but capable of bringing them to bear in any direction without repositioning the ship. Inventor John Ericsson had promised to deliver the ship in 100 days. He nearly kept his word.
The Monitor arrived in Hampton Roads at 9:00 p.m. on March 8 — just in time. She was commanded by Lieutenant John Worden, and her crew of 58 men was largely volunteers who had never served aboard anything like her. In a naval engagement later that night, while the crew slept at their guns, a Confederate officer on shore later said he thought the Monitor was a submarine.
March 9, 1862. The Virginia sortied at dawn to finish the Union fleet. The Monitor moved to intercept.
For four hours, the two ironclads pounded each other at ranges sometimes as close as ten yards. Neither vessel could significantly harm the other. The Virginia's shells dented the Monitor's turret but did not penetrate. The Monitor's shots cracked Virginia's iron plate but could not breach it. In the confined waters of the Roads, the Monitor's superior maneuverability allowed her to stay on the Virginia's flanks, where the Confederate ship's gun ports could not bear.
The duel ended inconclusively when a Virginia shell struck the Monitor's pilothouse and temporarily blinded Worden. Both ships withdrew. Both commanders claimed victory. Both were approximately right: the Monitor had saved the Union fleet, and the Virginia had demonstrated that ironclads could not destroy each other efficiently.
The engagement at Hampton Roads was observed by naval attaches from every major power. Within weeks, every wooden warship under construction in Europe was either cancelled or converted. The Royal Navy, which had invested enormously in its wooden fleet, began emergency ironclad programs. The era of sail and timber was over.
The Virginia never left Hampton Roads again. When the Confederates evacuated Norfolk in May 1862, they had no port where she could operate — she drew too much water for the James River. Her crew blew her up.
The Monitor sank in a gale off Cape Hatteras on December 31, 1862, with the loss of 16 men. She was in tow, not in battle. The future of naval warfare had moved on, and she was already obsolete.
Between them, the two ironclads had fought for four hours, caused no decisive harm to each other, and changed the nature of every navy on earth.
Continue Reading